No Stone Unturned
by topazchild
Summary: Gaius and Arthur are baffled when Merlin vanishes without a trace, and Merlin's survival depends on an adversary from the past.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin. **

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No Stone Unturned

Daegan was traveling to a nearby village with several of his men and one servant when they came across slave traders conducting business in a field. Though finding the trafficking in human beings personally abhorrent, he saw a noble that he recognized and wished to further the acquaintance. The man, though living a considerable distance from Drachenfels, was in fact his closest neighbor.

"I see someone I wish to speak to," Daegan said to his men. He dismounted and hailed the man in question as he approached. "Conall! Hold up. Don't tell me you're in the market for a slave."

The noble turned to see who spoke. Conall was a well-fed man with the florid complexion and ample waistline of someone who enjoyed his meat and wine only too well. "Ah, Daegan. No, just morbid curiosity, I'm afraid. Yourself?"

"Just traveling through. And no, I myself have no desire to purchase a human being. I find the whole notion disgusting."

"With your fortune," Conall agreed, "you can well afford to hire servants." He started to laugh then stopped short, the sound jarring in the midst of so much human misery. He and his companion looked around, seeing mostly men and a few women chained at the wrists, a few at the ankles. There were no children, thank the gods.

"Well, I think I'll resume my journey," Daegan said awkwardly, regretting the impulse to dismount and chat up the noble. "Maybe next time we'll meet under more auspicious…." He was interrupted by a desperate-looking woman, a look of terror in her eyes, grabbing at his arm.

"Help me, milord!"

A heavyset hulk of a man rushed over and caned the back of her legs, causing her to fall to the ground. "Apologies, milord," the man said, touching his forelock. "The woman will be disciplined."

"No, that won't be necessary. I have taken no harm." Despite his vast wealth, Daegan was not titled, but he saw no reason to point that out. He had at one time been in line to inherit a title, but all that changed when his noble cousin chose to acknowledge a son born out of wedlock to a servant in his employ. By this time, thoroughly creeped out, Daegan turned in the direction of his horse and his men, Conall still walking beside him. He passed a cart and stopped short, his companion nearly walking into him. There was a body lying in the back of the cart completely covered up with a threadbare blanket. He could faintly make out the gleam and shape of chains around the waist and wrists. Surely a dead body would no longer require chains. Overcome by curiosity, he reached down to pull back the blanket from the face.

"Daegan…," Conall said, uneasily. "What are you doing? He's probably dead."

He was not dead. Daegan could see barely perceptible movement of the boy's chest and hear his faint raspy breathing. He had skin as pale as marble and tousled hair the color of a raven's wing. There was something familiar about him. Daegan reached down and, grasping the boy's chin, turned his face toward him. The slave half-opened eyes that were of a deep blue color framed with dark lashes. He had been drugged, and the side of his face was bruised. Daegan eased his torn and bloody shirt up over his ribcage on one side. He had recently been badly beaten, possibly that very day, and the man wondered if some of his ribs were broken or cracked.

"Milord!" It was the large, rough-looking man that had struck the woman. He hurried over to the cart. "You don't want that one. He's damaged goods. We have several fine-looking specimens. Very strong. Let me show you."

Daegan suddenly remembered where he had seen the boy before. His name was Merlin and he was the personal servant to Prince Arthur. He had accompanied the prince, Lord Torr, his son (and Daegan's cousin) Justin, and the knights of Camelot to Drachenfels where they had stolen the firebird from him. Okay, _freed_ the firebird if you wanted to get technical about it.

He dropped the thin blanket back over the boy's face and turned toward the rough-looking man. "What will happen to this one?" he asked in a bored tone, like the subject barely interested him.

"That one?" the man said, a sly look in his eye, "He'll be taken care of."

Daegan repressed a shudder. Impossible to mistake the man's meaning. They would kill him, possibly slitting his throat, and bury him in a shallow grave. He thought rapidly. He did not know the prince that well. If enraged, was the man ruthless enough to sell, possibly even give his servant to slave trafffickers? He had no idea, and he owed the prince no favors. But one thing he remembered, Justin had been on friendly terms with the servant, and he (Daegan) wanted the artisan's good will.

"He is young," Daegan said, as if mulling over a thought. "What are his injuries?"

The large man looked as if he wanted to argue. "Let me show you others in excellent condition."

"His injuries?" Daegan repeated coldly. He raised his hand to summon his men to him. They rode in his direction.

"His ribs are cracked, maybe broken. I don't know." the man said reluctantly, with a glance at the approaching men. "And one of his kneecaps was shattered."

"Why was he beaten?"

"He kept mouthing off, and he wouldn't do as he was told. You don't want him."

"Personally, I feel up for a challenge." Daegan allowed a sneer to appear on his face. He felt Conall glance at him in surprise.

"Ah, I catch your meaning, milord," the rough-looking man said, suddenly more agreeable to the proposition.

"You'll be giving me your bargain rate seeing as how he's - how did you put it? - damaged goods."

There was a bit of haggling over the price just for form's sake. The thug had no idea that Daegan would have paid nearly any amount to gain possession of the boy.

"Done!" Daegan said with satisfaction. He had the chains removed but kept the blanket wrapped around the servant as much as possible - probably half his men would recognize him, and he wanted no questions, no startled gasps of recognition. "Careful, he's badly injured." Two of his men lifted Merlin up to a third to ride slumped against the man's chest.

Conall was left staring thunderstruck at them as they rode off.

**a/n: This story contains a number of original characters from my previous stories. **


	2. Chapter 2

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Chapter Two

One week earlier

"From what I'm hearing described to me, it sounds like the ague." Gaius was carefully pouring liquid into several small vials. "The symptoms of which are what, Merlin?" He looked up at his apt pupil. Arthur was sitting on a bench nearby, mostly listening.

"Uncontrolled shaking chills, fever, and sweating," Merlin replied, promptly, "accompanied by pain in the bones and joints."

"Very good, Merlin. There is no known cure," Gaius continued with his lecture, "the disease will simply have to run its course - but this should help alleviate symptoms." He finished pouring and passed a small box of corks to his ward. "I'll let you do this part."

"If you are finished with your chores for Arthur - " Gaius glanced at the prince who nodded. " - I need you to ride over this afternoon. You are _not_ to go inside any of the houses - the ague is contagious - simply hand the vials to the villagers through their doors."

"All right," the dark-haired young man said.

"Take one of the knights with you, Merlin," the prince said.

"I can take care of myself, Arthur."

" 'Cause you did so well against the goblins," Arthur said, sarcastically. "If Gabriel hadn't tracked your - well, my - horse, I'd be breaking in a new servant about now."

"And I'd be minus an assistant," Gaius added. The physician reached across the table and patted Merlin's hand affectionately.

The dark-haired man was shortly to ride out of Camelot and vanish.

One week later

Daegan and his men returned immediately to Drachenfels, any interest that the former had in traveling to their previous destination long forgotten. They entered by the front courtyard which Merlin, if he'd been in any shape to notice, would have failed to recognize. Prince Arthur, Sir Leon, and the rest had approached by the back in a clandestine manner.

Daegan, a clean shaven man in his early forties with slicked back brown hair, hastily gave orders. Lachlan, the single servant who had accompanied them, hurried inside as Merlin was carefully handed down to a large, muscular man who lifted him easily. The movement, slight as it was, caused a whimper of pain to escape the boy's lips.

"Careful with his leg. That cretin said his kneecap was shattered." Daegan cursed under his breath. Nerian _would be _gone from the residence just when he needed him. He allowed the sorcerer to live in peace at Drachenfels in exchange for the occasional service. He tried to think. The man had left the previous Thursday for - what had he said? - a couple of weeks. He supposed he could keep the boy heavily sedated for a few days and hope that Nerian returned soon.

~§~

Merlin was carried to one of the guest rooms and carefully deposited on the single bed in the room. Several more servants had arrived to assist Lachlan, all of them remembering the boy from when he came with the prince. The dark-haired young man had then been stripped of his torn and dirty clothing, and an older gray-haired woman, armed with a basin of warm water and a clean cloth, seated herself on the bed beside him. As she washed him, she took note of the number of scars and old wounds.

"Lachlan, was Master told of the boy's injuries?" the woman asked, speaking slowly.

"Yes, the slaver said his ribs were either cracked or broken and his kneecap was -"

"No," she clarified, "the other injuries, the older ones."

"What are you talking about - older ones?" he asked, curiously, stepping closer to the bed. He stared down in shock at the number of scars. The worst one was a large burn on his chest. Could the slavers have done this? He didn't think so. It was his impression that the boy had not been in their possession long. These were old wounds, long healed. He gestured over his shoulder to another man in the room. "Help me ease him onto his side." The boy groaned as they shifted him.

"You're hurting him," the woman said.

"I'm not trying to," Lachlan said, placatingly. "I need to see his back." The two men noted the recent bruising and welts from the beating then studied the older injuries. "If this one is from what I think it's from," he said, indicating the mark from the serket sting, "it should have killed him."

The three traded looks. Where would the personal servant to a prince get such injuries?

"Go tell Master Daegan there is something he needs to see," Lachlan said.

"I can't just go and tell Master to come here," the man protested.

"Tell him Lachlan respectfully requests it. There is something he should see. If it angers him, the anger will be directed at me."

"All right." The other man nodded and left.

~§~

Merlin should have been back by nightfall, maybe shortly after. He wasn't. Gaius wondered if he should bother the prince now or in the morning. He decided to wait. His ward could have been unavoidably detained although he hoped he wasn't spending the night in the village.

Arthur found himself being awakened and served breakfast by someone who was not Merlin. He told himself his servant had simply arrived back late and overslept. He was shortly to discover that not only had Merlin not overslept, his bed had not been slept in at all, he had failed to return, and more infuriating, had neglected to take one of the knights with him. Didn't the idiot ever do as he was told?

Theta was found still saddled, near the stables. He was spooked and half-wild, shying away when any of the stable hands got near him. Increasingly alarmed, the prince sent Elyan and Percival to backtrack the horse to the village. Merlin had delivered the medicine to the villagers and left. After that, there was no further sign of him.

Over the next few weeks, Arthur sent out numerous patrols, frequently riding at their head, always with the same dismal lack of results. Uther finally lost patience, told his son to quit moping around, get a new servant, and stop neglecting his duties. Merlin was gone. Accept that and move on.

~§~


	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter Three

Earlier

The man and his wife desperately needed money to eke out their meager income from the land and to pay the king's taxes. It was the man's wife who came up with the wicked plan. They could lie in wait for a solitary traveler, someone foolish enough to be traveling alone, and they would use trickery to take him unaware. Her intent was not robbery but to sell the unfortunate individual to slave traders. Her husband at first was horrified - this would be his first foray into crime - but the longer she talked and schemed, the more he listened and seemed inclined to acquiesce. Finally he agreed.

They had been operating in this manner for six months snatching some unfortunate person an average of once a week, always keeping to roads some distance from the lands they worked when they had their first mishap. One intended victim pulled a knife, nicking the man on the arm. The husband had wrenched the knife away from him and after a savage, brutal fight had managed to kill him by stabbing him through the heart. The couple had taken a small bag of coins from his body and left him lying in the road.

After that, the pair decided to lie low for a while, the man working their land and the woman taking care of their simple-minded, half-grown son.

Their first chance victim after their self-imposed hiatus came to an end was a young man with dark hair riding a buckskin. It was an inky black night with a pale half moon providing the only illumination, occasional dark clouds scudding over its surface. The couple's son was instructed to lie down by the side of the road.

"Keep your eyes shut," his mother told him.

The husband hid himself in some nearby brush and waited. When the rider neared, the woman rushed out in the middle of the road. "Oh, please help us!" the woman cried. "My little boy has taken ill."

Merlin brought Theta up short, glancing first at the woman, then looking cautiously around. Despite the shadowy gloom of the night, he could make out someone lying near the road.

"What happened?" he asked.

"My son has been ill," she explained, sounding frantic, " but I thought he'd be well enough to travel."

Merlin dismounted and hurried over, still holding Theta's reins. He hunkered down beside the body, puzzled. Something seemed off. Her 'little boy' was at least fifteen years old. The woman's son suddenly sat up and grinned. "Did I do good, Mum?"

Merlin's mind screamed _trap! _and he grabbed the pommel of his saddle, intending to mount. He was far too late. Strong arms grabbed him from behind, and a rag smelling of something sickly sweet was forced over his mouth and nostrils. He struggled and clawed at the man's arms before falling into darkness. The last sound that he heard was the panicked scream of his horse.


	4. Chapter 4

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Chapter Four

The man found Daegan in his chambers trying to wrap his head around the fact that he had just purchased a human being. Not a servant in his employ but a piece of property that he owned. What must Conall think of him? He groaned in frustration. He was by nature a self-centered, ambitious man to whom image was everything. He supposed he had chosen the lesser of two evils - it was plain the slavers were going to kill the boy - and he comforted himself with the thought that this would please Justin. He hoped to convince the artisan to paint another large gryphon in - possibly the main dining hall - he hadn't really decided. He had been quite pleased by the one Justin had painted in the great hall.

The servant gave a slight bow to him. "Beg pardon, Master, but Lachlan respectfully requests, uh, he was wondering if you could - ." The man knew he was making a mull of it. "There is something that you need to see," he finished in a rush.

"This concerns Merlin-?"

"Yes," the servant said, relieved.

Moments later, Daegan stood silently beside the guest bed looking at the young man's battered body. He had been stripped of his clothing, and a woman servant was washing him carefully with a damp cloth. "How long do you think the slavers had possession of him before I, uh, purchased him?" he asked Lachlan.

"Not long enough to have done all of this damage," his servant replied grimly.

"No," Daegan agreed. He was beginning to suspect Prince Arthur of being a cruel and brutal man, and somewhat to his surprise decided he no longer cared what Conall thought. It may have been unorthodox but he had done the right thing. Merlin's blue eyes were drooping, half-closed, and he wondered what, if anything, was registering.

"Merlin?" Daegan said, "You're safe here. No one is going to hurt you." To the woman: "Have you given him any medicine or a sleeping draught since he was brought here?"

"No, nothing," the woman replied.

"Good," Daegan said, "I need to speak with him when he's more lucid. And find some warm clothing for him. Raid my wardrobe if necessary." He turned and left the room.

~§~

Daegan sat in a chair beside the bed, having recently been told by a servant that his unexpected guest/newly acquired slave seemed more aware. He shook his head at himself. He hoped he wasn't turning into one of those nauseatingly pious do-gooders. He would make the young man work off the price he'd paid - not that he cared about the money - but it would serve the dual purpose of keeping him here until Justin came (thus currying favor with the artisan) and delaying his return to the clutches of Prince Arthur.

He waited until his servants had eased the young man into an old robe of his before he spoke. Merlin was watching him with stoic concentration in his deep blue eyes.

"Merlin? I know you're feeling kinda crap right now, but I need to talk with you," Daegan said. He waited until the young man nodded. "Do you remember me?" Brief pause. "Justin's cousin?"

"Yes. You had the firebird." He shifted his body trying and failing to find a more comfortable position. He winced in pain.

"Which Lionel and Prince Arthur stole from me," Daegan replied, still piqued. He took a deep breath and waved a hand in the air to dismiss the statement. _Let it go_, he told himself. "Well, that's neither here nor there. Do you remember what happened to you?"

"Yes, I was trying to help some people, and they sold me to slave traders," the raven-haired young man replied bitterly. He swallowed a groan. Every part of his body hurt. He thought his hair even hurt.

"A good deed never goes unpunished," Daegan quoted with a small, humorous look. "Anyway, you're here. At Drachenfels. And you're safe. No one here will hurt you."

"How did you get me away from the slave traders?" Merlin asked.

"Um, well, this part's a bit awkward."

Merlin regarded him with a fascinated expression. "You didn't buy me?"

"Um, well, yes."

"I'm your slave?" the young man asked.

"Well, technically I suppose, but when you're feeling better you can work off the purchase price."

"How much did you pay?" Merlin asked. The older man told him. "That's all? That's kind of insulting."

Daegan decided that the young man wasn't strong enough to be told that the slavers intended to kill him.

"What kind of work will I be doing?" Merlin asked.

"You can rearrange and organize the books in my library. It badly needs attention." Daegan felt all three servants still in the room looking at him. He made a mental note to himself to have several servants mess up his meticulously arranged library.

~§~


	5. Chapter 5

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Chapter Five

Arthur had been training with his knights, in his usual foul mood since Merlin's disappearance, when Sir Leon looked up and saw a cloaked figure standing at the edge of the field watching.

"Elyan," Leon asked, "how long has that man been standing there?"

"Not sure, but he's been there a while." Both Elyan and Percival stopped to look in the man's direction.

"Find out what he wants then move him along, will you?" Leon said.

Elyan walked over the short distance and spoke to the man while Leon and Percival waited.

"He wants to speak to Arthur," Elyan said upon returning.

"Get rid of him," Sir Leon said, then stopped to think, rubbing his fingers across his forehead. "Wait." There was a small chance that the man had information about Merlin, and they were all sick to death of the prince's black moods. To Arthur: "Sire! There's a man standing yonder that wishes to speak to you. Shall I have one of the men get rid of him?"

"No, I'll talk to him." Arthur was tired and dispirited, sweat running in rivulets down his face and clumping and darkening his blonde hair. He needed a break. He picked up a water skin, quenching his thirst as he walked over. He supposed the man was yet another person falsely claiming to have information about his missing servant. There had been a number of them since he had thought to offer a reward for information. He had long since regretted doing so, as it had so far been an annoyance and a colossal waste of his time.

The man, who had at first appeared hunched over, straightened up at Arthur's approach. He was tall, taller than the prince. He lowered the hood of his cloak to reveal black shaggy hair and beard. His eyes were piercing and powerful. Sir Leon, watching from a short distance, looked down and saw Arthur's practice sword lying in the grass. Did the prince even have any weapon of _any_ kind? Alarm bells started going off in Leon's head. "Elyan, is Arthur armed?"

"I - ," Elyan began. He and Percival looked at each other. "I don't know."

Sir Leon started cursing. "Get out there _now!" _

Arthur looked curiously at the man. There was only a light breeze yet the stranger's cloak billowed and blew around his powerfully built frame. A chilly gust of air seemed to encircle him.

"Who are you?" the prince asked. Elyan and Percival had reached him and stood on either side.

"Send your men back, and I will answer your questions," the stranger said.

"Leave us," Arthur said to his two knights.

"Sire," Elyan protested.

"Go!" Arthur said impatiently, raising his hand and flicking it backward.

Elyan and Percival walked back over to Sir Leon, neither one of them happy.

"My name is Boreas, and I have information that will help you find your servant." His voice resonated as if coming from a deep well.

"If your information is useful, I will pay you myself in gold," the prince said.

"I have no use for your gold," Boreas said, smiling, "but I will help you. There is a woman, a powerful seer, by the name of Blodwyn. She lives alone, beyond the White Mountains, in a small house hidden in the woods. King Alined makes use of her talents and has for many years. You have not heard of her, but she knows of you. Indeed she does." He laughed as at some private joke.

"This woman will tell me where Merlin is?"

"Yes, I believe she will," Boreas replied.

"How do I find her?"

"Sleep here tonight. Then on the morrow take what supplies you need and two men only. Your peregrine falcon will be instructed to guide you."

"All right, I will do as you say."

The man wrapped his cloak more tightly around him, and walking away, vanished into the ether.

~§~

Merlin had been there nearly a week when Justin arrived. He had traveled by himself over his father's objections, but the artisan was over thirty so there was little Lord Torr could do. Daegan was delighted to see him but had, after further consideration, decided not to mention Merlin's presence. It should be fairly easy to keep the two apart; Merlin was still weak and mending, and Daegan insisted that he be given a sleeping draught in the evenings. Although part of Drachenfels was in ruins, the structure itself was huge, and it was a simple matter to give Justin a room in another corridor. If the artisan later thought it odd to be escorted everywhere by his cousin's servants, he made no comment.

~§~

Daegan entered the room first followed by a man that Merlin remembered all too well. It was the sorcerer, Nerian. The golem that the man had crafted out of magic had nearly killed Arthur. He cringed back against his pillows, yelping in pain as the sudden movement jarred his knee.

Daegan hastened to reassure him. "It's all right, Merlin. Nerian is just here to heal your leg."

"No." Merlin may have been in considerable pain, but he did not want the man touching him. He turned a pleading look on Daegan.

"Uther has probably poisoned the boy's mind against magic," Daegan said, in an aside to Nerian. To Merlin: "Magic isn't evil, Merlin."

"It isn't?" Merlin asked, with an arrested look on his face.

"No, not at all." To Nerian: "Show him something, Nerian."

"Do you like dragons, Merlin?" the sorcerer asked. At Merlin's fascinated nod, Nerian cast a spell for the last dragonlord.

The little dragon that materialized on the foot of the bed was copper-colored, the edges of its scales shaded in red. It had a flared spiky ruff around its neck, two backward pointing horns, leathery wings, and a long tail ending in barbed spikes. Merlin was so caught up in the creation of the little dragon that he nearly raised his hand to add smoke issuing from its nostrils.

_Not too bad_, Merlin thought. _He could have done better, of course. _


	6. Chapter 6

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Chapter Six

When Merlin grew stronger, he told the servants taking care of him that he no longer wanted or needed the sleeping draught in the evenings. Daegan had no objection and it was discontinued. An unhappy consequence of this was that Merlin found himself waking after midnight, unable to get back to sleep. He was homesick and depressed, tormenting himself with the thought that Gaius had taken a new assistant, one using his room and sleeping in his bed. He imagined also that Arthur had a new servant and had ceased even thinking about him or wondering where he was. Servants no longer sat with him through the night so he felt free to indulge himself in bouts of self pity, telling himself that people had long since stopped searching for him and had gone on with their lives.

The older woman who had become his primary caretaker was aware of his depression and told Daegan about it. The upshot of it was that Daegan rethought his decision to keep Justin and Merlin apart. He knew at some point that the artisan would return to Camelot and Prince Arthur would be told where his missing servant was, but Justin, perfectionist that he was, was weeks away from finishing. Daegan had no way of knowing that Arthur would find out his servant's location by other means.

~§~

"Arthur is tearing the kingdom apart looking for you," Justin said.

"He is?" Merlin said, happily. The words were balm to his wounded soul.

"And," the gray-eyed man continued, "he's been quarreling with everyone - the knights, his father….."

Daegan and Lachlan had accompanied the warlock earlier to the main dining hall where Justin was working, unsure if he could find it on his own and knowing he was not yet back to full strength. The dark-haired young man had cheered up considerably upon finding a friend at Drachenfels. Daegan had stood for a while at the entrance idly watching them then studying the progress of the gryphon. Lord Torr had been a fool, he thought, letting thirty years pass before acknowledging his only child. He was pleased by the thought that Justin's presence here was almost surely infuriating the noble.

~§~

The woman, ancient in years, poured herself some tea, then set the pot carefully back down. Her face was deeply lined, white hair wound and pinned in a chignon on the back of her head. The king - no, prince, she corrected herself, Uther still lived - would be arriving this morning. She had seen him in her mind's eye, riding with two of his knights as she had lain awake in the night. Reluctantly leaving her warm bed for the chill of the early morning, she had built up the fire in the grate and gone about her morning chores, pulling her long fringed shawl more tightly about her shoulders.

She wondered if he knew she had helped King Alined capture him to stop the stars from falling.

~§~

The three riders reined to a halt. They found themselves surrounded on all sides by forest, the narrow trail they'd been following having played out. The peregrine falcon, cream-colored with gray markings, had flown up into a nearby tree and sat there regarding them with dark eyes.

"I'm betting that this woman doesn't get many visitors," Gwaine grumbled, "living as she does at the back of the north wind."

The three of them glanced up at the raptor. It seemed in no hurry to go anywhere. "It seems to think we're here," Lancelot said.

"Maybe we are," Arthur replied. He dismounted and kicked at some fallen leaves and scattered dry pine needles. "There must be a path somewhere close." Being with Gwaine and Lancelot in the middle of a forest with a goal to reach and at long last a glimmer of hope that he could find his friend had done wonders for Arthur's spirits.

It was Lancelot who found the overgrown footpath. They secured the horses and continued the short distance on foot. The small, weathered structure was nearly hidden from view, surrounded as it was by trees and heavy brush.

**a/n: Blodwyn fixing herself tea is an anachronism as tea did not become widely popular in Britain until later.**


	7. Chapter 7

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Chapter Seven

Gwaine rapped on the door, Arthur standing to the side and slightly behind him. They waited in silence, listening to the slow, shuffling footsteps as the woman, ancient in years, approached the door. Seconds later, Gwaine felt her glance first flick over him and then intensify as she looked beyond him at the man she had long seen in visions but never in the flesh.

"Come in, your highness," the woman said, "I've been expecting you." She briefly touched his hand as he brushed by her, wanting some connection to him. The images that flooded her mind from that fleeting touch were nearly overwhelming. She felt his pain, his insecurity, and his emptiness, the responsibilities that nearly crushed him, and the wild, tangled feelings of being unloved. She saw his death.

"My name is Arthur," he said, unnecessarily, "and you are - Blodwyn?"

She nodded, for the moment bereft of speech. A great heaviness of spirit had fallen upon her, and she sank into a chair. Gwaine stepped around Arthur and knelt in front of her. "Are you all right?" he asked. She took a deep breath and nodded.

Lancelot reached for her cup that still set upon the table. "What is this - tea?" he muttered to himself. He handed it to her. A few moments later, the color had returned to her face, and she seemed fully recovered.

"I have need of your unique gifts," Arthur said, "and I will pay you in gold. I am looking for my - "

"Your servant. I already know this. I knew you would come here this morning."

Arthur pulled another chair from the table and sat facing her. "Tell me," he said. "Everything."

"He was taken by slave traders and badly injured by them. He now lies within the castle known as Drachenfels. I believe you are familiar with it?" Small smile.

"Yes," the prince grimaced, remembering the golem with a shudder. "How did he escape from the slave traders?"

"He did not. He was purchased by the man living at Drachenfels."

"Daegan," Arthur said fiercely, half to himself. "I'm going to kill him."

"That would be a grave mistake, your highness. If the man - Daegan - hadn't taken him, your servant would be lying in a shallow, unmarked grave somewhere, instead of a bed being cared for by servants."

Arthur looked at her, her words giving him pause. He was mentally revising his spur-of-the-moment plan to approach the structure from the rear. Maybe a different strategy entirely was called for. They would come through the front door.

Hell, he would throw a bag of gold at the man's head and _buy_ his servant back if he had to.

"Arthur," Blodwyn said, as the men took their leave, "there are many who love you. Never doubt that." Her words were for the prince alone, although both Gwaine and Lancelot heard her. Unable to answer her, the blonde had mounted his horse and ridden off, leaving the two knights to catch up.

~§~


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Merlin looked at the piles of books stacked haphazardly on the floor and shelves of Daegan's library. There was something off about it. It was almost as if someone had hurriedly pulled them down from the shelves. He ran his fingers across the covers of several thick tomes and brushed his fingertips off. There was no dust. Hmm.

_Beh__æ__pse f__æ__st_. The warlock shut and sealed the door. He used another spell to start putting the heavier books back on the shelves all the while listening for footsteps in the corridor. A quarter of an hour later, he heard the rattle of the door then "Merlin!" It was Daegan and he sounded anxious.

_Ic ia t__ó__springe_. The raven-haired man hastily dissolved the spell that sealed the door and picked up a book. He was in the act of putting it on a shelf when Daegan rushed in followed by Lachlan and several other men.

"Merlin! We need to -, " Daegan stopped, looking at the bookshelves in surprise. Merlin, following his gaze, realized he had done too much work for the short time he'd been in here. Oops. Fortunately for him, the older man was distracted by other events. "Merlin," Daegan began again, "we need to get you hidden in one of the secret rooms. Prince Arthur is at the entrance with two of his knights demanding that I turn you over."

"Arthur is here? Why would I want to hide from him?" the warlock asked, with mixed emotions.

Daegan looked at him with surprise. "He has inflicted grievous injuries - "

"He has never hit - , " He stopped himself. Okay, that wasn't true. Arthur hit him. Frequently. How to explain the complicated relationship between himself and the prince of Camelot to this man to whom he owed his life?

"Yes, Arthur has hit me and thrown things at me. And I've hit him."

"You have struck the prince?"

"Yes. Several times."

"How is it that Uther has let you live?"

"Well, he doesn't _know_ about it," Merlin said, grinning. "Arthur may be a prat, but he has a good heart. He hasn't done what you think he's done."

Daegan studied him in silence for a few moments. "What is it you want?"

"I want to go home."

~§~

The prince was in the entry foyer yelling that he was going to 'take this place apart stone by stone if his servant wasn't returned to him' when Merlin, Daegan and several others entered. _Arthur in full prat mode_, Merlin thought. He had missed him. "Sheesh, Arthur, are you _trying_ to wake the dead?" Merlin asked, walking further into the room. Gwaine and Lancelot, standing beside the prince, looked relieved to see him.

"Merlin!" the prince said, turning away from browbeating various denizens of the castle. Sudden moisture caused his eyes to shine, and joy lit his face with radiance. He hurried over and hugged him, carefully, pressing his cheek against his friend's. Something broken inside both of them healed at the touch. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm all right," Merlin said, overwhelming emotion causing his voice to thicken.

_Well, _Daegan thought, _it was safe to conclude that the prince hadn't caused the grievous injuries to his servant's body. Whatever or whoever had done so seemed destined to remain a mystery to himself. Wonder if the prince knows? _

After a brief and rather awkward conversation between Arthur and Daegan, the prince told his servant they were leaving. Grabbing him firmly by the arm, he pulled him to the entrance accompanied by Gwaine and Lancelot. Reaching the entrance, Arthur turned and tossed a bag of gold at Daegan's feet.

Merlin decided not to tell him that the man hadn't paid near that amount.

The End

**a/n to Spiritsong: After reading your comment on chapter five, I realized I should have written an additional scene between Nerian and Merlin (or made the existing one longer.) Thanks for reviewing. **

**a/n: Daegan, Nerian, and Justin are from "Rising Sun." Justin was also in "Something Wicked" and "Hostage to Fortune." Gabriel, just mentioned in this story, is from "Starfall" and "Something Wicked." Blodwyn is from "Starfall." The peregrine falcon has been in several of my stories. **


	9. Chapter 9

Epilogue

Daegan had three bits of information or more accurately, riddles, in his head that separately meant little but considered as a whole explained something that had been puzzling him: the older scars on Merlin's body, the ones unrelated to the beating given him by the slave traders. They were difficult to explain, even if the prince had proved to be the villain that Daegan had briefly thought him. How had the slender young man come by them? Secondly, how had Merlin, still weak and recovering from his time spent in the slavers' possession, have had the time to replace most of the books on the shelves in his (Daegan's) library? He had _not_ had the time. Daegan had realized this on later reflection. And lastly, when Lord Torr had come with Prince Arthur and the knights to steal the firebird from him (okay, _free_), how had the large hole been blasted in the tower wall?

These three separate bits of information coalesced, as flashes of insight sometimes do, in the middle of the night. Daegan opened his eyes to the darkness of his room and smiled. Merlin, the personal servant to the only son of Uther Pendragon, had magic. He filed that intriguing little fact away in his head for future use. He was someone who believed that all knowledge would prove valuable if one only lived long enough.


	10. Chapter 10

Epilogue 2

Conall was addressing a remark to his wife at one of King Uther's dinner parties when his attention was caught by one of the servants waiting on guests, a slender young man with dark hair and blue eyes. Startled by recognition, the noble so far forgot himself as to grab the servant's wrist when he paused to set a plate of cheeses on the table nearby. There was a sudden lull in the conversation around him, and the noble looked up to find himself the subject of an icy blue glare from the crown prince. "Pardon," he said, hastily, turning loose. The young man still stood near him, patiently waiting. "You don't remember me, do you?" Conall continued, _sotto voce._

Merlin shook his head. "No, milord."

"I was with Daegan when he took you from the slave traders." Pause. "You are Prince Arthur's personal servant?" he asked, on a guess. He was uncomfortably aware that the blonde royal was continuing to watch them from across the table.

"Yes, milord."

"And Daegan was aware of that when he took you?"

"Oh yes. He wasn't being capricious. He knew who I was," Merlin said, with a small smile.

"You are fully recovered now?"

"Yes, the servants at Drachenfels took good care of me, and I owe Daegan my life." Merlin made as if to move away.

"He returned you to the prince when you recovered?" Curiosity prompted the noble to ask more questions than good manners dictated, but the servant took no offense.

"Mmm, no. Arthur came and got me," the dark-haired youth said, half-laughing.

"Merlin," Arthur spoke impatiently from across the table.

"If you'll excuse me, milord?" Merlin said, with a polite nod. He moved on.

**a/n: This story won't stop writing itself. :-) Let it go, muse. **


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